


Summer Lovin'

by The_Almighty_Ro



Series: Longing [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Always a different sex, Body Worship, Established Relationship, F/M, PWP, Prussia Won't Say She's In Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 01:53:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4901017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Almighty_Ro/pseuds/The_Almighty_Ro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The idea comes one late summer day, as she is helping Spain in his garden with the end of season harvest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Lovin'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LupaDracolis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LupaDracolis/gifts).



> Happy early Birthday, Toni!

The idea comes one late summer day, as she is helping Spain in his garden with the end of season harvest.

It's late afternoon and the day is sweltering in the Spanish heat; almost everyone is inside napping, and Spain would be too if she hadn't urged ( _forced_ ) him to finish his damned gardening instead of leaving his tomatoes to rot in the sun. They're both sticky with sweat and miserable, Prussia because she can't spend five seconds in the sun without burning and Spain because he wasn't allowed to siesta, the big baby. Neither of them wants to be outside anymore, but it's Prussia's grim determination to finish a started task and Spain's willingness to let her boss him around that is keeping them there.

And then Spain rips his shirt over his head to mop up the sweat dripping down his face.

It isn't such a huge thing, Prussia has seen him shirtless -and naked- hundreds of times before over the centuries. It's what happens when a guy as weird ( _gorgeous_ ) as Spain gets comfortable with you. But ever since they started having sex ( _dating_ ), she hasn't been able to stop the way her mouth goes dry and her fingers itch to touch whenever she see's a stripe of exposed, bronze skin. Even when he's fully clothed and they're out together, she will find any innocuous excuse to touch and be touched, and thrills with every minute point of contact between them.

_(France laughs at her and says she's in love, but she isn't ready to accept that yet and so she tells him to can it.)_

But today it is a huge thing, the hugest of things, and she cannot fathom why other than the fact that a month's worth of sexual tension is catching up with her (because both of them have been too busy, him with work and her with...well, not work, but Very Important Things alright?!) and all she wants to do is get her mouth on those broad shoulders of his and kiss and suck until he is as big a quivering mess as he makes her.

_(Because whenever they have sex he always insists on lavishing her with all the attention she desires and takes none of it for himself, as if the idea of letting her pleasure him as much as he does her is terrifying and it frustrates her when she wants to return the favor.)_

Spain catches her staring and smiles. "See something you like?" He teases. He still hasn't put his shirt back on, probably won't, she wouldn't put it past him to finish gardening like this. It isn't like he burns or anything.

"No!" Her answers comes too quick and cracks on the end, and he laughs and leans over to pat her flushed cheek. If he notices it's not just red from the heat, he doesn't say, but he's got a very satisfied grin going and she wants to wipe it off his stupid ( _gorgeous_ ) face. 

They finish collecting tomatoes without any further incident, but she knows that Spain feels her gaze heavy on his bare back. The thought is niggling it's way to the forefront of her mind, evolving into an idea, until it has become a full fledged desire. She thinks maybe she'll go mad with it if she doesn't slake her thirst soon and really, she just can't have that.

She contents herself with a glass of lemonade instead once they head inside with their haul.

"The harvest is very good this year!" Spain is saying, all exuberance like he isn't aware of her hungry stare. "You were right, if I had waited any longer they would not have been as good!"

Prussia hums absently as he prattles on; he still hasn't put his shirt back on and the lean lines of his back are giving her ideas terrible enough to make any catholic cross themselves. He isn't as scarred up as she is, a result of better healing and a nation coming into being more naturally rather than forcing the issue, and his shoulders are broad and strong. For years she refused to allow herself the luxury of looking, too afraid of what might happen if she gave into temptation during her young and tumultuous years, when her gender was an issue and something to be hidden until it just became completely natural to steal a glance and look away. Now she has that luxury, is allowed to look and touch all she likes without fear of repercussion, and she is absolutely giddy over it.

_(The fact that the feeling has been mutual for centuries absolutely takes her breath away.)_

" _Amor_?" His voice breaks her from her whirling thoughts and he comes back into focus at last, glass of lemonade poised halfway to his mouth like he either had or was going to take a drink. His green eyes shine with concern and that fondness she's come to associate with every look he offers her shyly. "Are you alright?"

Despite the fact that she downed the contents of her glass, her throat is completely dry and she knows only one way to fix it.

Setting her glass aside, Prussia reaches for his wrist and Spain's eyes widen before crinkling with understanding and a smile. It still hot, too hot, but she thinks that has more to do with the inferno raging inside her than the actual heat and it intensifies when she claims his mouth with her's.

Spain laughs just a little when she pulls away, knocking the floppy hat he'd given her to protect her from the sun away so that he can stroke her hair. "You could have just asked, _amor_ ," he teases.

If she was burning before, Prussia was blazing now. "I refuse to get a sunburn on my ass, even if the opportunity to offend your neighbors was really tempting," she snaps at him with a scowl.

He just laughs and kisses her again like he wants her -and what a concept that is, someone wanting her- until she feels like her knees are going to go out from under her. His hands are burning brands against her white skin as they slip beneath her thin shirt and he still has the sour-sweet taste of lemonade on his tongue, and somehow they make it to the couch in the living room where they collapse together still trading kisses. 

It's after he's pulled her shirt off and started in on her bra that she stops him. "I want to do it this time," she says at his questioning stare.

Spain looks a little uncomfortable at that; it isn't the first time they've had this conversation, and it probably won't be the last, but Prussia is determined to get what she wants this time, and what she wants is her mouth everywhere on him. "You don't have to..."

She kisses him again, long, slow, and tender. "I want to," is her breathless reply when she breaks the kiss. There must be something in the way she's looking at him, some fragile plea, because after a very long moment of looking up into her face he nods silently.

"Whatever you want, _amor_."

Prussia waists no time in claiming his mouth again, but instead of lingering like he expects her to, she drags it down and across his jaw in hot, open mouthed kisses while her hands tangle in his soft curls. There is the same grim determination in the way she mouths down his neck with teeth and tongue that was there while they were gardening, but Spain has since learned the difference between 'task to be completed' and 'epic challenge' and there is a throb of pleasure that runs through him when he realizes that he is the latter. His pulse is jumping beneath her lips and he can feel the way they curve up into a pleased grin against his skin.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

He makes to say something, anything, but she's nipped at his bare shoulder and the words leave him all at once as he moans instead.

"That's what I thought," she says gleefully.

"You-You're incorrigible," he manages, and those are the last words he manages because now that wicked mouth of her's is sucking a bruise in the hollow of his throat.

 

She's laughing at him silently, but not mockingly, as she continues to kiss and taste him to her heart's content. The salt of his skin is heavy on her tongue now as she continues down his chest and stomach, until she reaches his silly little shorts and looks up for permission. It takes a moment for the haze to clear from his eyes enough for understanding to flicker through and he gives her the smallest smile she's ever seen from him and nods. _'Whatever you want'_ , his eyes are saying and she is so awed by the fact that he is so willing to be with her that she has to busy herself with yanking the fabric down and away to hide how choked up she is over it.

He springs free and clocks her in the chin, and she can hear the embarrassed noise he makes and the soft 'sorry' before she feels his hands touching all over her hair to see if she's alright. 

"I'm alright, you big goober!" The temptation to swat his hands away is strong but Prussia likes the way he's stroking her hair, long fingers threading though quicksilver in ministrations meant to soothe, so she let's him keep doing it. He's going to need something to hold onto in a second anyway.

Satisfied that there will be no further mishaps, she takes him in her hand and, at his sharp gasp, plants a kiss right there on the head before swallowing him whole. Spain tenses beneath her and makes a noise like he's been punched in the gut, and it's as good as encouragement as she gonna get for a while. She notes the way he gasps her name, both of them, like a prayer as she sucks him off and revels in the way his face is crumpled in unabashed pleasure. He's never been shy in all the years that she's known him, but the thought that she's the one doing this him makes her drunk with power and satisfaction.

He's just started whispering _'Maria'_ over and over, fingers clenched in her hair, when she drags herself back up to his mouth. Of course he whines in protest, but his hands are on her hips as she straddles his lap, awkwardly fumbling with her pants and panties until she is as bare as he is. The feeling of sinking down onto him draws a ragged gasp from her and Prussia clings to him until the stars fade from her eyes and she can feel the fevered kisses he's pressing into her shoulder and neck. The first roll of her hips has his arms tightening around her and him dropping the filthiest curse she's ever heard from him against her skin; she grins triumphantly.

Later, when they're laying sweaty and entwined on the ruined couch, her tracing patterns into his skin and him running long fingers through her damp hair, does he bring up the subject that they've both been actively avoiding. The whispered _'te amo'_ catches her off guard and she freezes up in his arms. It's only the shower of reassuring kisses that slowly unwinds the spring in her gut.

"You don't have to say it," he says once the fight or flight instinct has been quelled. "Not if you're not ready."

His understanding sends her heart fluttering into her throat on butterfly wings and she has to choke it back down lest she say something really embarrassing. But she feels she has to convey to him how deeply she feels _somehow_ , so she leans up and kisses him hard. The silent answer seems to please him and he kisses her back, over and over, with just as much passion until they're breathless and giggly.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is turning into a series, which is great because I love this verse and would love to explore it more. Hopefully the next installment will be here soon!


End file.
